Sweetheart
by HannahSongla
Summary: A series of Hayniss/Aberdeen one-shots inspired by Lana Del Rey songs, spanning over many AUs.
1. Lolita

_Note: Everyone is pretty Out of Character in this part, sorry. Maybe it's because they're drunk? /crappyexcuseiscrappy_

**Lolita**

_Would you be mine? Would you be my baby tonight?_

_Could be kissing my fruit punch lips in the bright sunshine_

_'Cause I like you quite a lot, everything you got, don't you know?_

I'm at Haymitch's house, somewhere I've been a lot lately. It's been lonely since the games, since Peeta's mad at me and I haven't had a chance to talk to Gale with him working. Haymitch is the only person I really feel like I can talk to lately, anyways. My mom and Prim try, and I want to be the daughter, and the sister that I used to be. I can't, though, and Haymitch understands that. He understands that I need a break from the people who don't understand me, and can only try to fathom what I've been through. Not only does Haymitch understand, but he has this rare ability to make it not some awkward elephant in the room. Maybe the mutual understanding helps with that.

At first, we were just silent. Haymitch was usually hung over or sleeping when I came, but made an effort to make me feel at home when he came to. He usually tried to make me food before realizing he had none, and then fetched me a glass of water. We'd sit, in a comfortable silence, sipping on our beverages, looking everywhere, the ceiling, the table, our hands, our eyes. It was during this time, looking in his eyes, and at his face, I realized that haymitch was kind of handsome, if you looked past the paunchiness and the deep bags beneath his eyes. He didn't look quite as old as I remembered, and there was something about the way he smiled that made my heart flutter. I was embarrassed by this feeling at first, and pushed it aside, pretending I didn't feel it at all. It was weird...he was so much older than me.

One day, we just started talking. I felt as though I could trust him like we we were close lifelong friends. Everything personal about myself was poured out, and Haymitch told me some about his own life. He was reluctant at first, but opened up with the help of liquor and some coaxing from myself. The only topic we didn't touch was the games, and of course, the way my heart took off every time I thought of him and coming to his house.

We learned a lot about each other this way. I told him about childhood and starvation, Gale, and depressed mothers. He confided deadbeat fathers, days looking past the fence, and girlfriends. One day he commented that he hoped depression didn't run in my family, and I concurred. It was an odd comment, but I told myself it was nothing, just a mentor caring for his victor. It still felt oddly intimate.

Then, one night, I had a particularly nasty nightmare concerning peeta and gale, waking with a scream and running from the house. Without thinking, I found myself at Haymitch's house. It wasn't until I reached his living room I realized how ridiculous it was. Haymitch sat on his couch, still awake and pretty drunk, staring at me in shock. I couldn't fight the tears though, and the next thing I processed his arms were around me, hugging me until the crying stopped, before leading back to my house. Soon, this was a regular occurrence.

Tonight is one of those nights. Except, I don't plan on going home. I want to drink, to help pluck up the courage for what I plan on doing. When he pulls away and starts to move me back to the door, I shake my head. He just cocks an eyebrow, and I clear my throat, my stomach clenching in nervousness. It's crazy, what I'm thinking, but I've got to at least try. I swallow, but I can't find the words. Several seconds drag by.

"Can I get a drink?" I finally manage to croak out, and haymitch gives a chuckle.

"Sure, sweetheart, help yourself." He motions to an assortment of bottles littering his table, each having varying amounts of alcohol left. I pick one and take a quick swig, and fight the urge to spit it out all over his table. Haymitch looks at me expectantly, and I raise the bottle to him before taking another drink. It's not so bad this time, now that I know what to expect, but I still wince when I swallow. Haymitch watches, and a feeling of self-consciousness creeps under my skin with his gaze.

A few swallows later, a nice buzz has settled in and I giggle, setting the bottle down.

"I've got a question for you." I say, smiling. It seems kinda silly I was so worried about his reaction. Haymitch forces a laugh, and takes a drink from his own bottle.

"And what question is that, sweetheart?" He's poised, tense, anticipating the worst. Perhaps he thinks I'm going to ask him about his games. I study his grey seam eyes, preparing myself spring the worst, but before the question can slip out all the way, I chicken out.

"Have you ever..." I am not ready for this. I pick up the bottle again and take drink, and resolve to take a new approach. Baby steps. "Had sex?" I ask, because it's the most logical question. Of course he's kissed someone, he's had multiple girlfriends. Maybe even gotten naked. Or something. The thought makes my head swim, and I take another drink. Haymitch studies me for a moment before answering.

"That's your big question?" He asks, a bit incredulous. I shake my head, a nervous smile spreading across my face.

"I'm just working up to it." I explain, Haymitch gives a small smirk, but continues to study me, and a heat starts to creep up my neck and to my cheeks. I'm suddenly aware of just how nervous I am, and take another drink, which seems to take off the edge. Haymitch leans back in his chair and looks at the ceiling for a while before answering.

"Yes, I've had sex, sweetheart. Why do you want to know?" He still doesn't look at me, and I take my time to finish the bottle off before answering.

"With who?" I don't bother to acknowledge his question. He heaves a sigh.

"A few people from the Capitol, my girlfriend before the games, even a couple of people from the district." He looks at me now, more serious than before, but the alcohol keeps the embarrassment away effectively. "Are you going to answer my questions?"

"Because...I..." I look at him, unsure if I should confess. After a few seconds of staring, I decide to screw it and go ahead. If it goes badly Ill just act as though it didn't happen. "I think...we should...um...have sex." I refuse to tear my eyes away now, and I can see a course of emotion through haymitch. Shock, running into disbelief, running into...amusement.

"Are you serious?" He laughs, but I only nod solemnly, and he sobers. "No. Absolutely not. What about Peeta? Or Gale?"

"Well...I mean, I like them. But Peeta wants nothing to do with me. And Gale is just...y'know, a friend." I mumble, all my tact whisked away with the buzz of alcohol. I want nothing more than to leave now, and hide from Haymitch until the end of time. I don't know what I was expecting. For him to say yes? Ridiculous. I glance up at Haymitch, hoping that he'll offer a bit understanding, or at least something to break the silence, but he has fixed his eyes on a bottle of amber liquid among many.

"Forget it, it was a stupid idea." I murmur, and I grab another bottle before getting up. "Seeya."

"Where do you plan on going with that?" He asks, his gruff voice holding an undertone of amusement. "Back to your mother's house? I'm sure she'd appreciate that."

My face flushes red, burning. Of course he's right, and I plop back down on the seat that he has reserved for me. I open the bottle and take a long drink before looking at Haymitch, who has returned to studying me.

"What?" I ask, a bit more sloshy than before. Haymitch barks out a laugh.

"Slow down, sweetheart. You don't know your limits." He gets up and takes the bottle from me, eliciting a whine on my part, and I make a half-hearted attempt to grab it back. He just laughs and sets it up high, as if that would stop me from grabbing it again, or one of the many other half filled bottles on his table.

"You're not fair." I mumble, and he gives another laugh.

"I'm not?" He asks, and I nod. "How so?"

"Because," Hot embers of anger are starting to glow in my chest, fuelling my words and making them pour out of my mouth. "I come in here, and you act all nice and understanding, and you hug me when I'm scared, but it doesn't mean anything to you." I glance at Haymitch to try and see his reaction, which currently stands at some mix between pity and amusement. The words continue to come. "You're the only person who understands, Haymitch, besides Peeta, but he hates me right now, pretty much because of you." Somewhere between the words, hot tears have started to run down my face. "And I really like you, and...it isn't fair."

When the anger finally sputters out into tears, I come to the realization I had gotten up, and I'm now standing over Haymitch, whose expression I can't read. The next thing I process is his arms around me, his hands stroking my hair. We remain like this even when the tears stop. Eventually I look up, and our eyes meet. Instinctively, I lift my head and our lips meet.

_Another Note: If you're reading because you read my other fic, Burnt, the next chapter will be up soon. I've been working on it, but I've also been hoarding this for a while. The next chapter has been pretty hard to write. _


	2. Born to Die

AU in which Katniss and Haymitch are the same age and both get picked for the 50th Hunger games.

Come on take a walk on the wild side  
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain  
You like your girls insane  
Choose your last words,  
This is the last time  
Cause you and I  
We were born to die

**Born to die**

Haymitch and I trudge through the grass, it's bright unnatural green reminding me of candy in the baker's shop, or maybe frosting on a cake. We gave up running a few hours ago, and now we walk, with no particular destination, in silence. We hadn't planned in this way, we'd spent most the time at the training center doing our own thing, I with my bows and arrows, him with his knives. We met when grabbing packs on the outskirts of the cornucopia gifts, most of the careers were too busy fighting at the heart of it all to notice us. We addressed each other warily, but in a split second with a nod of my head, we decided to trust each other. Even so, I always made sure if was behind him. I do not want a knife in my back.

We finally stop when the sun starts to set. The canons from the bloodbath still haven't gone off. Is it possible that it's still going on? It's plausible, with double the tributes. I haven't seen the other tributes from our district, and I wonder if they made it. They're both merchant kids, babied compared to me and Haymitch, and not that smart either. Haymitch on the other hand has proven to be smart, fast, and cunning. I wonder if he views me as a tag along or an actual ally.

The cannons going off brings me out of my thoughts. Haymitch is looking at me with this amused smirk on his face, and I realize I had been staring at him. I quickly turn away, feeling my cheeks grow hot under his gaze. He's quite attractive, all things considered. His curly black seam hair and gray eyes give an air of mystery that I have a hard time placing. He's made me so flustered I almost lose track of the canons. 18. Haymitch looks slightly pleased, while I just feel sick to my stomach. I busy myself with my pack for a while before haymitch speaks to me for the first time today. Maybe in my life.

"So, what's your name?" He asks, a little lazily, and a bit arrogantly too. I know his name, he's known for his looks in the school, plus I've had a few classes with him. We're the same year, even. I roll my eyes. Of course he doesn't know me. I keep to myself, he's bright, funny, and popular. He looks at me expectantly, and I sigh.

"Katniss. And you?" I might as well feign the same level of indifference. I didn't even notice him that much anyhow, just his looks. Any girl would do that.

"Haymitch." He obliges, giving that smirk of his again. I nod, and return to my pack. It's pretty decent, with enough food to last a few days, a filled water bottle, and purifying chemicals, plus a long blade which lies in the middle ground between knife and sword. Haymitch, on the other hand, made out with 5 knives, and a small bag of nuts and fruit, and an empty water bottle, but twice as many purifying chemicals as I.

"Looks as though the odds are in your favor." I comment, and haymitch only raises his eyebrows before responding.

"Our favor." His eyes meet mine, and it's my turn to look intrigued. "If you want." I'm surprised he's suggesting it, but it does make sense. Split the supplies, and we have reason not to turn on each other. Somewhat.

I nod in acceptance.

* * *

I have second watch. The sun is tingeing the horizon orange and pink, and dark circles lie beneath Haymitch's eyes. He sleeps soundly. I don't know how. I kept on waking up during the night, always convinced someone was going to attack me in my slumber. Even though I thrashed around a bit, Haymitch didn't notice, or at least pretended not to.

I keep on finding myself looking down at him. We're set up under a rock alcave, which protects us from attacks from behind. One of us sleeps behind, and the other keeps look out in the front. The nights aren't freezing, and therefore tolerable. However it makes it ideal for tribute hunting. We're constantly on the move. We haven't run into anybody yet, no close calls to speak of.

This will change soon. The game keepers will manufacture something to push us together, and force a fight.

Or maybe not. There's still a lot of tributes, but there also seems to be a steady flow of blood. 20 of us remain. 18 are my enemy. 19 sooner or later...I hope it doesn't come to that. I don't want it to come down to me and Haymitch.

Haymitch's eyelids snap open, and our eyes meet. I quickly tear mine away, and Haymitch clears his throat. Again my cheeks burn under his gaze.

"You aren't doing a very good job of keeping watch if all you do is stare at me." He laughs, and I can feel my neck begin to burn too.

"Uh, Sorry." I stutter out, and then I pretend there's something really interesting in the forest. Haymitch sits up next to me, closer than usual. My heart skips a beat.

* * *

We're forced into confrontation when we come to the realization everything in the arena is poisonous. I recognized a few berries from 12 (all debilitating or deadly), and we decided that we should be wary of all else in the arena. It became apparent this is the correct approach when we witnessed a tribute eat some animal she killed. Soon after, she began choking and foaming at the mouth, before falling to the ground. A canon followed soon after. The only thing we gained from her pack was another knife.

So far, I haven't caught sight of my signature weapon. I think of a career gripping it, hopefully inexpertly, and I feel like kicking myself. I should have looked for one. Of course, Haymitch is skilled with knives, but my accuracy is pale compared to his. He can take out an animal in one fell throw. I have to throw several knives to take down one of the small mutts.

Due to my ineptness, and the fact that everything here had the potential to be poison, we decided to raid the careers.

We stalk the edge of the clearing, watching the careers. They're feasting on all these delectable foods that we'd never even see at home. What irony.

The careers eventually finish, and head in the opposite direction of us. There's 8 of them. There's 8 of the others, including me and Haymitch. I get dizzy when I think about it. Victory is close. But I'm still with Haymitch this late in the game. Goodbye will be awkward, and I may have to face him later…

I don't want to think about it. Instead I watch as the careers retreat into the forest at the base of the mountain. I wait a few minutes after I can't see them for good measure, and then I turn to Haymitch. Was he looking at me?

Haymitch smirks. I nod. We break into the clearing. They left their beefiest guy with a sword, and he's facing away from us. My tread's light and inaudible from years of hunting, and Haymitch is lithe and fast. Haymitch's knife goes whistling through the air and makes contact between the guy's shoulder blades. He falls, and I can hear a gurgled scream muffled by the grass. His shirt quickly gets soaked by blood, sending a wave of nausea over me. I turn my attention to the supplies.

We grab enough to last us a week, if we're conservative, and then book it out. It isn't until we're well into the forest when we stop. That's when the reality of what we just did hits us. We did it. We killed a tribute, but we got supplies. We did exactly what the Capitol wanted.

Still, I feel euphoric. I feel like I have a chance.

That's when I kiss Haymitch. He doesn't stop me.

* * *

We had to talk about it some time. There is no right time, however after we've eaten is when Haymitch speaks. I want to ignore it.

"What was that?" We've returned to our alcove. He's looking to the horizon, and I'm fiddling with a chicken bone in my hands.

"I don't know. I just… got caught up in the moment." I mumbled. "Sorry."

"It's okay." He doesn't hesitate. I wonder if this is a deal breaker, though. This has passed a whole other level of boundaries. I don't think I recall there ever being a tribute romance. Sure sex (and rape has been rumored, but never televised), but never just a simple kiss. Maybe they just don't show it. It doesn't make for a good show. We're supposed to be killing each other.

"I've never kissed anyone before that." I don't know why I blurt it out, but I do. I immediately blush. In my head, I was trying to justify it, but it just sounded awkward coming out. Luckily, Haymitch laughs.

"I could tell." He glances my way, and I bring myself to look at him. "No offense or anything. It wasn't bad! Just...sloppy." He teases, and my cheeks flush.

* * *

Every time Haymitch looks my way, my heart threatens to beat right out of my chest. I'm good at keeping a cool face though. I'm getting better at controlling my blushing, too.

This is getting out of control. No matter how much I want to ignore it, I have feelings for him. It's exactly what I don't need. It's unheard of.

I'm putting and end to it, as soon as I can.

A canon pulls me out of my thoughts. Haymitch's eyes snap to meet mine, and I frown. 10 of us left. Our alliance is getting dangerous. I don't want it to come down to the two of us. I really don't. The realization comes that this is the best time to leave. I can put my feelings behind me, and hope to win. If I don't, maybe Haymitch will. District 12 needs a victor. We haven't had one in a while.

Before I can open my mouth, Haymitch speaks my thoughts.

"We should split up." He states, and I'm about to agree when he speaks again. "But…"

"But?" I ask, incredulous. Why was he stalling? This needed to be done, and we both knew it.

"How about one last kiss. A better one. One you can remember me by." He winks, and my eyes widen. Is he serious?

"I...uh...n-no." I manage to get out. I need a clean break from this. So it doesn't haunt me until the end of my days. He looks disappointed. "I mean. I would like to, in any other circumstance, but…" Now it's my turn to trail off.

"It's not hurting anybody." He laughs. "I mean, come on. It's not like we have anything to lose. We might as well make the most of our time in here."

I guess my resolve wasn't as strong as I thought it was, because it sounds appealing. He isn't wrong. There's nothing to lose. What if I die? Would I want to die without...this experience?

Short answer is no. Long answer is far more complicated.

I walk up to Haymitch, and he gently lifts my face up to his, and gives me the most tender kiss I could imagine. We pull away, and look at eachother for a moment. Then we're kissing again, harder, angrier, and with an intensity I've never known myself capable of.

When we pull away, I give him a small smile, then turn to leave. I want to say something, like goodbye, but it doesn't seem right. It doesn't seem like there's anything right to say. No knife comes flying at my back.

I make it about 200 feet when I trip. It happens so fast I have no way to process it. One moment I was walking, the next I'm yanked into the air by a net set up by another tribute. How I missed it, I have no idea. I thought I was smarter than that.

Reality starts to set in. I'm stuck in a trap. A trap set by another tribute. This is where the hunger games ends for me.

No.

I let out a shrill scream. I catch a glimpse of a tribute I don't recognize heading towards me through the net. I scream louder, thrash, try to swing the trap, but it's an expertly made net. Probably District 4. Which meant a Career.

The tribute jabs his hand through the net with a knife, and though I try to avoid it, I can't.

There is a searing pain from my stomach, my vision blurs, and I gasp. I barely process the district 4 tribute falling to the ground. I figure cuts the net, and I slam into the ground.

"Shit." He exclaims, and I recognize the voice. Haymitch.

All I can taste is blood, All I can hear is a loud ringing. All I see is the blurred canopy of trees, but I still feel a certain happiness with Haymitch by my side. I close my eyes, willing the pain to quickly fade away. The last thing I feel is my body obliging.

* * *

A/N: Okay so I had published this before but this is a revise version that makes Katniss seem less like a ditzy girl. I don't know how to write a dying character, so please forgive me. Thank you for your encouraging words and I have a few other chapters hoarded, so I'll try to get them out soon :)


	3. Off to the Races

**A/N: **AU where more happened the night Katniss when drinking at Haymitch's. Lemons :)

_And I'm off to the races, cases of Bacardi chasers_

_Chasin' me all over town 'cause he knows I'm wasted,_

_Facin' time again on Rikers Island and I won't get out_

"Give me a drink, Haymitch."

These are the first words that leave my mouth when I find myself at his house. Before this, I was shaken up, but now, I just need to forget. I don't want to think about the announcement, the quell, the inevitability of returning to the arena. I can afford to forget about all of this for one night. What better way than to drink? Haymitch has been doing it for at least 20 years, hasn't he?

Haymitch doesn't protest, either. I don't think it's that his morals are lacking, it's just he understands. I mean, we're going through the same thing, aren't we? Well, almost. Haymitch still has a 50% chance of not returning to the arena. Where as I…

I stop myself from thinking about it.

He's pouring me a drink, and before I know it, I've thrown back 2 glasses and am asking for a third. He laughs, causing me to retract my glass out of self consciousness, before thinking better of it and extending my arm again. He obliges.

Funny how I wanted to drink to forget, because the alcohol only wants to talk. About the arena, about life, and how it just isn't fair. Screw the games, screw the capitol, screw everybody. Haymitch doesn't hush me. There's no point of being hushed, I'm going to die either way.

I am going to die. It didn't solidify in my mind until this moment, but now I'm sure that it will be Peeta who comes back, and this calms my stomach a bit. But not much. The alcohol is telling me to still be angry. The alcohol continues to push words out of my mouth that'd I'd never say sober.

"You know what's the worst?" I slur, and Haymitch smiles darkly.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"I'm never going to experience anything. Or h-have the opportunity to, anyways." I can't really say Haymitch has experienced all life has to offer, or what limited selection district 12 has. "Not that I know that I'd take full advantage, but it feels wrong to be robbed of the choice." My words slip and slide, but I try to stay coherent. I don't even know what I'm saying, it isn't really the worst thing, but my mind has some ulterior motive and is on a set course. I don't try to veer from it. "I mean, I'll never even...have sex."

The alcohol doesn't completely dull my sense of modesty, and when I say those words, I feel dirty. What am I doing?

Haymitch gives me a look. He isn't drunk enough for this yet. No problem, though, he's pouring-no, sloshing-more into his glass. I hold out my own.

"Maybe that's enough for you." He murmurs, but I don't retract my hand. He doesn't give in.

"Come on, Haymitch. I don't want-" My voice catches. I'd been pushing the quarter quell to the back of my mind, but some of the restraints were breaking, and my thoughts were spilling all over. "I don't want to be able to remember in the morning."

He studies me, eyes narrowing, and I feel like he's trying to pry into my very soul. I look away until the splash of liquid against glass tells me he's refilled my cup.

"Your mother won't be happy with me." He mumbles, but I try to drown him out with loud gulps.

"You should've thought of that before." I laugh, and he forces smirk. Something about the smirk stirs something inside me, and I feel a desire compelling me across the short expanse between us, leaning over him, attempting to climb into his lap.

"Whoa, sweetheart." His voice is stale, and he keeps me back with two extended arms, his rough hands gripping my arms. "What are you doing?"

"I need somebody." I whimper. He looks at me with pity, and it takes everything not to crumple right there. But my mind is determined to get it's way. Right now, it wants Haymitch. "I try working against the wall he's put between us, but his arms are surprisingly strong. I give up, resorting to pleading.

"Please." I try to look as pathetic as possible. Haymitch actually laughs. I rapidly go through tactics, each one less successful from the last. After an attempt to be seductive fails, I just go limp, and his arms are the only thing keeping me up. "Just tonight." I mutter, refusing to meet his eyes. "We can forget about it tomorrow. I just need tonight." I let out a surprised exhale as his arms pull me closer to him, onto his lap.

"...Okay." He concedes. His voice is gruff, but his body invites me in, pulling me closer, until there isn't space between us. There are no kisses, but bites along my collarbone, and one hand between my legs, rubbing slowly over my pants. He works his way between them, and my breath hitches as he somehow manages to touch me intimately through the cloth.

My own hand merely rests on the bulge growing ever more apparent in his lap, but as he starts to reach into my pants, I in turn start to rub it lightly, increasing vigor as he does.

My pants make their way to the ground, and then my underwear, and soon I'm nearly dripping wet, and haymitch works his hands over my center. He doesn't dare slip a finger in, and I wonder why until it hits me.

"I'm...not a virgin, you know…" I manage to get out, and he stops with a confused look. "I mean, I don't have...that thing...a hymen? I think the capitol…" There's no need to say more, he knows where I'm going. A grim expression has settled on his face, and he's stopped rubbing me. My stomach flips at the thought of ruining the mood. I was so close…

In a desperate attempt to regain the momentum we had, I slip off the couch and onto my knees in front of him and give him a coy smile.

"You've given to me, should I give to you?"

"Um…" Haymitch starts, I don't let a protest slip out of his mouth, and waste no time freeing his...penis. Dick?

Dick. I've seen many, including Peeta's. Peeta's is a bit longer, though Haymitch's is thicker. I hold back a laugh at the thought of comparing the two, and start to pump slowly. Haymitch leans back and groans a little, which only encourages me. I can feel his...dick hardening underneath my hands.

I don't know what I'm doing. Haymitch stops me.

"What? Was it bad?" I'm a little hurt. Haymitch barks a laugh.

"No, sweetheart." He motions for me to stand, and then pulls me onto his lap. "Not at all." He helps me position myself over him, and I hover above him for a second, feeling him just skirting the entrance of my center. I slowly lower myself onto him, and whimper a little at the feeling of Haymitch filling me up. As soon as I reach the base of his dick, I rest a little, unsure what to do.

It isn't until Haymitch starts rocking that I let my instincts take over.


End file.
